


That Wouldn't Have Been You, Tony

by Gjenganger



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Mentions of Pepper Potts - Freeform, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Iron Man 3, Self-Reflection, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, alcohol is not a valid coping mechanism, we all know Tony would do that anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28706106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gjenganger/pseuds/Gjenganger
Summary: (Set between Avengers and Iron Man 3, but if Tony and Pepper had broken up for good)A little vignette in which Tony realizes why he and Pepper would never have worked. Early depictions of Tony feeling the PTSD from the events of Avengers Tower and being Iron Man in general. Mentions of Pepper.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark
Kudos: 10





	That Wouldn't Have Been You, Tony

**Author's Note:**

> I've never liked Pepper/Tony, and I will die on that hill. Not bashing, I just think it doesn't work, no matter how hard Marvel tries to force it. Tony and Nat would be great friends tho, and we don't get enough of them just hanging out.

Tony twisted the valve, starving his blowtorch of the oxyacetylene it needed to sustain its flame. The light and flame sputtered out and died. Like his first arc reactor, after the fight with Obadiah. For an inescapable fraction of a second, his heart seized in fear at the memory.

“I’d give up Iron Man.” He said, almost a whisper. He stared at the suit torso: scarred, charred, and hanging over his worktable on chains. Dummy looked up at him, waiting for instructions. He pulled the welding goggles off and tossed them on the table.

“What?” Natasha was on the couch behind him in his workshop, reading a thick book with Cyrillic characters on it. It’s cover was several shades of blue, and depicted a boy with a wand. Her arm was bandaged, another scar forming after another hard fight. He couldn’t see the confusion and concern in her eyes.

He patted out a staccato in his palm with the vice grip he’d been holding, a nervous tick of his. When Tony spoke again, his voice was louder, and certain. He spun around to face her, flashing his trademark cocksure smile. It died on his face as fast as it had appeared.

“I’d stop. Hang up the suit. Wipe the schematics from the servers. That’s why it didn’t work out. Why it would never have worked out. With Pepper.”

Natasha was quiet for a long moment, holding his gaze. She closed the book before she spoke. “That wouldn’t have been you, Tony.”

“No. No it would not have.” he said, giving a half-hearted smile and tossing the vice grip over his shoulder. It bounced off the surface of the workbench and kept going. Dummy rolled after it, whirring calmly; this was nothing new. Tony stalked over to the blender. 

“Drink?” He called back.

“Absolutely” she replied.

Ingredients were thrown into the blender. A minute later, Tony plopped onto his couch, handing her a glass. The pitcher went on the side table. Natasha stretched her legs out over his. They toasted silently and took large pulls of green fluid. Natasha coughed.

“Jesus, Tony. How much vodka did you put in this?”

Tony smiled, finishing his glass before answering. Like a plunger, he could already feel it soothing him. The healthy greens of his usual smoothies, and the warming, coping liquor mixed in.

“Half? Maybe more?”

She finished hers, exhaling heavily and offering the glass.

“Stoli?”

Tony laughed as he refilled their glasses, waving the empty pitcher to Dummy. The robot rolled over and grabbed the pitcher, before heading off to make another batch.

“Tito’s! Yet another example of us beating the Russians at their own game.”

Nat playfully jabbed his ribs with her foot, laughing with him. “Hey now, nowadays I’m as Wonder Bread American as it gets!”

“Says the spy reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Blyat...”

Tony grinned and sipped from his drink. They’d spent many evenings like this, hanging out together in his lab. Most of the time they didn’t interact, just enjoying each other’s company. Tony would work on the suits and Nat would read, or spar with some training bots he’d been building for the team. His grin softened. On the bad days like today, she was one of only a few people he actually wanted around, who made him laugh. They both had that same hollow look in their eyes, though they were both good at hiding it.

“It... hmm.” He started, losing the thought. “I know it would be toxic. I know I don’t want a romantic relationship with Pepper.”

Nat nodded, sipping her drink and following along. “But it still hurts.”

“It still hurts. But I’m not sure why,” he replied, frowning as he tried to look inside, past the pain. Trying to find the thorn that was causing it.

“You loved her. You still love her, if only as a close friend.” Nat leaned over, slumping against his shoulder and sipping her drink. The Red Room had taught her how to tell when a man was starved for affection. It made them easy targets. She drove down the dark memories with another long pull. She’d never seen Tony with anyone but Pepper, at least for more than a night or two. The list of one night stands in his assessment file had been three full pages, two columns each.

Time passed slowly, marked only by the rhythmic humming of the reactor; he thought he found the thorn, and pulled. It hurt like hell, but once it was out he knew it was the right one.

“That’s true. But it hurts because I’m alone. I’ve always been alone. No—“ he sipped, savoring the burn and rewording the thought. He barely noticed the tears rolling down his face as he corrected himself. This wasn’t the first time he’d broken down next to her, nor did he think it would be his last. Dummy returned with another pitcher, setting it down on the side table before returning to his tasks. “That’s true. But that’s not quite it. It seems that at some point recently, I have internalized that being alone is a personal failure. And that is what feels awful.”

Tony remembered the void of space, and the nuke. The emptiness and darkness and silence that had followed when the air escaped his suit and he fell, fell, fell. The hole in his chest yawned at him now, an invitation to fall in. Not the arc reactor, but the indescribable hole in his world that had crept in before Banner had shouted him back to consciousness. 

It was harder than Tony admitted to drag himself back to the present, and the grounding presence of Nat helped. He was in his workshop. He had Dummy and Jarvis, and Nat, and the others upstairs. He was safe.

He grabbed the pitcher, refilled their drinks, and curled back up on the couch with his friend.

“Jarvis, play Evangelion”


End file.
